To Whatever End
by crazybeagle
Summary: I meant every word that I said earlier." "So did I." "I know you did, and that's the problem." A different take on "As Long As You're Mine."
1. Part One

**To Whatever End**

**I feel like the time has come to write the obligatory "As Long As You're Mine" fic, so I proudly present to you all a slightly different take on the ever-lovely scene that had me grinning like an idiot when I saw it live for the first time. Also, this is my chance to prove to Dee that I **_**can **_**write a Wicked story without killing or maiming Fiyero. **

**I may continue this at some point but consider it a oneshot until further notice.**

**Disclaimer- I don't own Wicked, my pretties, but if I owned Nessa's shoes, Elphie's hat, Glinda's bubble, and Fiyero's pants, I could RULE THE WORLD! **

"Fiyero?" Her hushed voice cut through the darkness.

Fiyero blinked. "I didn't know you were still awake," he muttered. _He _certainly couldn't sleep. He wouldn't let himself- he knew better than anyone exactly how much danger they were in right now. "What is it, love?"

She'd been half-sitting, half lying on his lap as he leaned against a tree. His tense arms held her body to his in a manner that could only be called possessive. She crawled off of him and sat down to face him, drawing her knees up to her chest. The faltering, flickering light of the lantern that sat between them played across her face, casting deep shadows upon her features. She was staring at the ground.

He leaned towards her. "Is something wrong?"

Her eyes met his for a moment, but she looked down too quickly for him to register her expression. Her jaw was set. "You shouldn't be here," she said in a flat voice. Her words stung him.

"What?" His voice faltered. To his dread, she didn't respond. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Do you not… Do you want me here?" Hoping he didn't sound completely pathetic, he added, "With you?" The prospect of that terrified him, because having officially made himself Public Enemy Number Two earlier that evening, he could think of nowhere else to go. And it hurt more than a little to think that after the exhausting years he'd spent tirelessly searching for her, fueled by horrific images of what would surely happen to her if she fell into the wrong hands, the one woman in the world that he'd ever truly loved might now reject him.

Well, maybe he was now paying some sort of penance for his promiscuous past. It was cruelly ironic, really. But if she wanted him to leave, he would. It would crush him, but he respected her too much to stay if she didn't want his company. But things might've been a little easier if she hadn't waited until _now _to expose her true feelings on the matter. She'd _kissed _him, even, and until a moment ago she'd been asleep in his arms. And Oz, the wonderful things she'd said… She'd given absolutely no indication that this wasn't exactly what she wanted.

Her eyes then locked on his, and the unbridled emotion of that gaze made him gasp. He saw warmth there, in wonderful abundance, as well as desperate need. But seconds later, it was replaced by desolate, soul-deep sorrow. It cut him to the quick.

"I do want you," she whispered. "I do, so much… And I meant every word that I said earlier."

"So did I," he said, unconsciously leaning towards her.

"I know you did," she said quietly. "And that's the problem."

Fiyero was now thoroughly confused, but he mustered up as much bravery as he could to say what needed to be said. "Would you like me to leave?"

She looked up. Her features were schooled into the hard, emotionless mask he'd seen her wear the majority of their time at Shiz. It was only very rarely that he'd ever seen that barrier come down. The first time it did was the day they'd run off with that Lion cub, and that had been the exact moment that she'd wrought an irrevocable change in him.

"Where would you go?" she asked, an edge of mockery in her voice. "Now that you're an outlaw, you might as well stick with me."

"Then why-"

"Because I never wanted this for you!" she snapped. He recoiled a little, and her expression softened. "Look, I'm sorry, but…" she trailed off and turned her face away.

When she remained silent, he leaned across the lantern once more and took her chin, turning her head to face him once more. "But what, Fae?" he asked gently.

Her lips curved upward into the ghost of a reluctant smile when he used her nickname. He'd come up with "Fae" at Shiz when she'd confided in him that she hated it when Glinda had called her "Elphie," and he'd laughed when she promptly informed him that "Fae" sounded no better than "Elphie."

She took a deep breath. "Listen. I never…I never doubted that- Well, that eventually…" She was stumbling over her words, and he moved his hand to cup her cheek. She closed her eyes for a moment before reaching up to remove his hand. She did not let it go, though, and held it tightly on her lap as if to draw from him the strength she needed to get her words out. Looking at him steadily, she began again.

"I've always known that eventually I'm going to get caught," she said quickly. He opened his mouth to argue, horrified by this, but she silenced him with a finger. "It's naïve to think otherwise, Yero." She smiled sadly. "I mean, at first, I didn't really think about it. I figured…I figured that if I could just keep moving… For the most part, the Animals have been good to me, even if there were a few I've met that clearly don't want my help. But those that _do _have been returning the favor by helping me hide. But it's been getting difficult." Her eyes drifted to Fiyero's Captain of the Guard uniform, discarded and tossed aside now that he'd stolen some more practical clothes from an old barn along the way. "For them and for me."

He stayed silent, not trusting himself to speak. He'd taken the position for the sole purpose of protecting her, but the Gale Force stood for everything she stood against and judging by the look on her face now, it had been her sole and constant source of fear for the past two years. And until tonight, _he _had been its leader. He hoped that someday she'd understand, but for now he didn't expect her to forgive him for that.

She pulled her hand out of his and wrapped her arms around her waist. She appeared to be lost in thought. After a moment she looked up, her expression unfathomable. "How many have you killed?" she breathed.

"How many what?" he asked, though his immediate feeling of nausea told him that he already knew exactly _what_.

"Animals."

His shoulders slumped.

"Fiyero."

"Four," he muttered. He couldn't look at her. He wouldn't.

She said nothing, and an unbearably heavy silence hung between them. Having led Gale Force was one thing, but _this_…this was something that he hated himself for, and it would almost make it worse if she didn't hate him for it too. Logically, he knew that he'd had no other options, with his men and often many civilians looking on each time as well as with the Wizard's specific command that any Animals that resisted his regime were to be "made an example of." But somehow, that was of no comfort to him when he'd gone days afterward each time unable to eat or sleep, or the times when he'd relive it all in his sleep and would wake Glinda with his yelling. And he knew he'd never forget the sickening feeling of his knife sunk up to the hilt in flesh or the smell of the blood.

He was expecting anger from her. Or disgust. Horror. But what he saw when finally forced himself to look into her eyes, couldn't be farther from what he'd expected.

It was sympathy.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice cracking a bit.

She nodded, her countenance grave but understanding, and took his hand once more. "But this means that we've probably lost the protection of the Animals. I don't think they'll be nearly so gracious to you as they've been to me. And now that you've betrayed your men, they're going to be twice as eager to see us _both _die horribly."

"But you've still got sorcery, and I've got a gun," he said. "And I know how Gale Force operates. We can hide. We'll be alright." He tried to sound optimistic, but he had a sinking feeling that she was right. And now, because of him, she was in even more danger than she'd been in before.

She shook her head. "This is going to end badly. You know it will. I knew it would for me anyhow, eventually, but… Fiyero, I would never have wanted you to be dragged down with me. Back at the palace, you-" He could tell it was getting hard for her to speak once more. "You just threw away your whole life back there. Glinda. And everything good that you had."

He shrugged. "To be honest, that's not saying much. But Glinda…" He ran a hand through his hair, agitated. "I never wanted to hurt her." Yet another regret.

She winced when he said Glinda's name, but she continued. "You just gave it all up, and for what? I don't understand. Why did you do it?"

He couldn't explain why. There was no logic to it at all, and he certainly hadn't stopped for a second to consider the consequences of his actions. The second he'd seen her in the throne room, all he'd known was that he could not let her out of his sight again. So he gave her the only response he could think of, cringing at how simplistic and ridiculous it sounded even if it was the truth. "Because I love you."

He expected a rebuke, or laughter, but none came. Instead, a small smile appeared on her face. "Yes," she whispered. "I'm beginning to see that." Her smile faded, and she suddenly looked weary- too much so, Fiyero thought, for someone so young. "It's just as well, I guess. I don't know how much longer I would've been able to hold out on my own." She smoothed out the wrinkles of her skirt, now studiously avoiding his gaze. "Thank you."

He nodded slowly and looked down at their joined hands. The contrast created by his skin beside hers in the wavering light of the lantern was striking.

_Well, whether she loves me or not, I'm not going to let her be lonely._ _Not anymore._

***


	2. Part Two

**To Whatever End**

**Part Two**

**Two things- One, note that the rating's gone up. Two, I didn't even realize until after I wrote the first chapter that the idea of Fiyero having had to kill Animals while in Gale Force is derived from GirlScout1987's story, "Hunting For Witches." Go read it, all. **

**Same disclaimer as before, but as deeplyshallow pointed out, I left Elphie's broom off the list, and Fiyero's pants are pointless to own unless they have Fiyero in them. ^_^**

Fiyero stared at the patch of starry sky just visible through the dense, overlapping treetops. He was grateful that they were at what was likely the very heart of largest, densest forest in Oz with the exception of the Quadling bogs. For now, they were as safe as they could hope to be. He was waiting for her to say something, but she would not. She still held his hand.

Eventually, he withdrew his hand. "Maybe we should, uh…" He cleared his throat. "Maybe we should try to get some sleep now. So we can get an early start tomorrow."

She looked up. She seemed listless, distracted. "Huh?"

He blinked in confusion, wondering if he'd ever seen her in any other state aside from completely focused.

"We should go to b-" he stopped, cursing inwardly as he saw her eyes get huge. "I mean sleep. We both need to get some sleep, you know, so we can…tomorrow…uh, hide." He was well aware that he was babbling, and he shut his mouth before he could sound any stupider than he already did, or frighten her.

"Alright," she said slowly. She was looking at him strangely.

He stood up, not sure what to make of her behavior. "Do you want me to help make a camp or something? I guess a fire would be a bad idea, but-"

"Here," she said quickly. It looked as though she'd snapped out of her trancelike state. She handed him a bag that had been sitting next to her. "There should be an extra bedroll in here, and some food, if you need it."

"Thanks." He cleared away some of the forest brush so that he could lay out his bedroll and she did the same, hers farther away from his than he would have liked. Every now and then as they worked he caught her looking at him out of the corner of his eye, but the second he turned to face her she'd be looking away again.

Once finished, they found themselves both standing in the empty space between the bedrolls. She seemed to be consumed by her thoughts once more, her arms wrapped around her middle and her eyes fixed on the ground. _What now? _was the only thing he could think as he watched her. Things had been going so well when they'd first gotten here, but now he wasn't sure what to think. She hadn't tried to bolt when he'd blurted out that he loved her, but apparently she'd convinced herself that this was all a terrible mistake. So all he could do was stand there, shuffle his feet and wait for her to say something. He was too thoroughly confused, miserable and weary of trying to figure this infuriating, wonderful woman out to do anything else.

But once the silence and standing around inevitably became too much for him, he stepped forward and hesitantly took her hands. "Good night, Fae."

The reluctant smile that he received in return was enough to make his heart swell with joy, and his mind drifted to earlier that night, before she'd begun to doubt things, when they'd essentially melted into one another's arms without a second thought. The memory of her lips crashing against his and her hair tangled up in his fingers made his stomach do flip-flops, and though he longed to do the same now, he figured he'd be overstepping his boundaries. He let go of her hands and bent down to blow out the lantern, praying that she hadn't seen the color that he was sure had crept into his cheeks or the…_other _outward manifestation of physical attraction that he could feel coming on. _Damn it._

But no sooner than he'd blown the lantern out, dousing their world in darkness, and turned to crawl into the bedroll, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He whipped around with a start, only to find Elphaba crouched down next to him. He couldn't see the expression on her face, but he could hear her breathing heavily.

"Fae?"

Almost of its own accord, his hand reached out to stroke the side of her face. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"I am," she whispered. He felt her other hand light on the back of his neck, and his skin immediately broke out into goosebumps at her touch.

"W-what are you…" he stammered. His words were cut off by her lips against his, and suddenly his mind was no longer capable of coherent thought. All he was aware of was her, _her…_her soft skin and smooth, slippery tresses under his fingers; her scent, which vaguely reminded him of pine needles; her lips urgently, insistently seeking his.

He responded with equal zeal, and before he knew it, his tongue was roaming the inside of her mouth and her fingers were fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. And despite the overwhelming force of his own desire, one word forced itself into his clouded mind: _Stop. _His hands found her shoulders and he gently shoved her off.  
When his eyes adjusted to the moonlight, he found he could finally see her face. Her cheeks were flushed with a beautiful olive shade, and her lips were swollen. She looked hurt and confused, and it dawned on him that despite all the horrors she'd seen and endured in her life, _this, _which by rights should be something good and beautiful, was something she knew next to nothing about.

"I thought…I thought this was what you wanted," she murmured, her eyes downcast.

Despite himself, he half-smiled. She was clearly upset, but her entire demeanor suggested the endearing naivety of the shy schoolgirl she had once been.

"What?" she snapped when she registered his expression.

"Nothing, love." He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked at her earnestly. "But is this what _you _want?"

She nodded slowly. "And besides, I figure that, well, I don't have all that much to offer anyone, but if there was ever anybody who deserved something good from me, it'd be you."

Horrified by her insinuation, he let his hands drop from her shoulders. "That's why you're doing this? Because you think…you think that _owe _me or something?"

"That's not what I-" she began quickly when he started to pull away from her. She closed her eyes and sighed, apparently regretting having voiced these thoughts. Leaning over and kissing him on the cheek, she whispered, "Listen to me. I am indebted to you, more than you know."

"No, you're n-"

"Hush," she cut him off. "Yes, I am, but it's not a debt I could ever repay with my body, nor do I intend to try, so calm down, alright?"

"Alright," he said cautiously, but he figured it wasn't worth it to argue.

"Good. So to answer your question, then. Yes, this is what I want, because I think that….I think that I love you too, and if you'll let me, I'd like to show you how much." She sounded confident, but her expression was tentative, her eyes searching his.

But all he could do was smile.

_She loves me. _

"Well?" she demanded. All traces of uncertainty were gone now that she'd gauged his reaction. All that remained was a brilliant intensity burning in her eyes and a slightly mocking smirk on her lips, and he had to remind himself to breathe. He nodded.

And then she was in his arms again, and he found himself kissing every bit of her face that he could get to as her fingers twined themselves through his hair.

A laugh rose from her throat- beautiful, clear, and pealing like a bell. She leaned back to look into his eyes. "I've decided to take a leaf out of your book for tonight," she declared. "I love you, and to hell with the consequences."

***


End file.
